


Good Pet

by sleep



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Bestiality, M/M, Master/Pet, Other, Pet Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 12:46:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3650850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleep/pseuds/sleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a slow day on the Peaceful Tyranny, and Vos and Kaon decide to have some fun together. Kaon decides to mix it up a little.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Pet

**Author's Note:**

> Includes: Petplay, bestiality, knotting. Consensual.  
> I am still only responsible for my own stupidity.  
> Enjoy!

Downtime on the Peaceful Tyranny was always pretty uneventful, and it could be downright boring if it lasted for too long. There was only so much time you could spend optimizing your equipment, checking the list, and otherwise ready yourself for the next victim. The torture could take however long it did, and they would be all the merrier for it. Hunting a fleeing or hiding prey could also take a long time, but the victim's fear would sustain them. But drifting in space, slowly approaching their next destination, before their planned victim even knew they were coming for them? Infinitely boring.  
  
It was one such day onboard the Peaceful Tyranny; nothing to do, no duties that had not already been attended a hundred times. On those days – as long as you were not neglecting your duties, or hindering the cause in any way – no one would care what you were up to. So why not enjoy yourself a little?  
  
Kaon was smiling. A regular mech might find it eerie – the empty optic-sockets boring holes into their head – but Vos was not one to be scared by such a small thing as his team-mate looking like a gleeful mass-murderer with a new victim. After all, it was true for the both of them, and the only things Vos would be a victim of today, was things he had agreed to.  
  
Behind closed door – in Kaon's berthroom, to be precise – Kaon stood next to Vos, putting a collar around his slender neck. He made sure it was secure – but not too tight – and attached a leash. He took a moment to admire the view, before stepping away. “Prepared?” Neocybex was far – extremely far – from Vos' area of expertise, but he knew this word. He nodded. “Good!”  
  
His master got into position in front of him. “Pet, sit.” Vos immediately fell down to a sitting position, earning him a light head-pat. A slight shiver passed through him. Obeying his master, his master praising him... It always felt so good. He could feel his valve starting to produce lubricants. “Pet, lie down.” Vos shuffled to a lying position. “Good pet! Play dead.” He rolled over, and got a belly-scratching. These were all tricks he knew well enough. His master's commands were always in Neocybex, making them initially hard to follow, but he learned fast, and could now follow a decent amount of Neocybex-commands. His master stood up again. “Pet, beg.” That was one of the newer commands. Vos hesitated for a moment – what did “beg” mean again? “Beg”, “beg”... That was something the mechs on The List did, right? – before moving to a sitting position, and raising his hands. Was that right?  
  
More head-petting indicated a yes. “Now, pet, we are going to try out something new.” Most of the words were unrecognisable, and the only ones he was sure of was 'pet' and 'new'. New trick for master's pet. Okay. “Pet, sit.” He happily did. His master bound the leash to one of his berth's legs. “Pet, stay.” That was also an old command. His master started walking away, and Vos started to turn in order to see where he was going. “Pet, stay!” His master's tone was sharp, and Vos hurried back to his previous position, now facing the wall, staring intensely at it. He would not disobey his master.  
  
His master was gone for several kliks, and not turning to look when he eventually returned took a lot of willpower. But he would be a good pet. For master. He heard some form of scratching-noises behind him, but remained in place. His master then walked back to him, unbound the leash, and took it back in his hand. “Good pet!” Vos leaned into his master's strokes. “Pet, stand.” The command meant something else when he was master's pet than it did when he was a mech. Vos rose to standing on his hands and knees. “Pet, watch me.” He already did, but he raised his head to face his master's face, which was what the command meant. “Good pet.”  
  
His master then looked beyond him, and talked to someone else. “Mount.” That was not a command he had learned. He heard more sounds coming from behind him – someone eagerly moving across the floor – and then he felt a weight settle on his back, accompanied by lightly panting and slobbering. Vos did not turn to look, but stared in confusion at his master. What was going on? His master had said something new would happen, and this _was_ new, but what was he supposed to do? What did master want him to do?  
  
“Pet, open.” His master was staring – if you could call it that – at him again, and after a moment of hesitation, he obeyed. Master was usually the one to spike him, but he would do anything his master told him to, even if he was unsure of why. His panels snapped back, revealing his interfacing equipment, partially aroused by the activities so far. Immediately, he felt something push against the soft lining of his valve. It felt like a spike, but not one belonging to a mech – it was oddly ridged, felt unproportionally big compared to the weight on his back, and he was pretty sure it was still flaccid – and just as it penetrated his valve, he realized what was going on.  
  
The Pet – his master's _actual_ pet – was on top of him. Its spike was about to enter him. His optics widened, and he stared up at his master. He could say the safeword. It would stop everything. But his master smiled at him, pet his head, and said “You're doing so good, pet!” Good. He was doing good. His master was pleased with him. He discarded all thoughts of using the safeword, and felt the walls of his valve slick properly just in time for the sparkeater to sink into him. The sparkeater rutted into him a few times, before sinking down to its shaft. Vos felt something odd; the sparkeater's spike was expanding, especially at its base, which seemed to grow to an incredible size. The sparkeater then immediately started ejaculating into him. But the transfluid had nowhere to go, and while the spike was not _completely_ filling his valve, its base was far too big for it to slide out of him again.  
  
Kaon watched his pets. One was happily mounting the other – filling him up with transfluid – while the other was panting hard, while a little transfluid was dribbling down his spike, and his abdomen slowly expanded to accommodate for the contents of his valve. He must be filled up real good by now – transfluid still gushing into him – and the sparkeater would remain in place for a while yet, no doubt pumping his pet full of transfluid. Kaon pet his pet again. “You're doing very good.”  
  
–  
  
About 40 kliks had passed. The only thing keeping Vos in his standing position was his master's cooing and petting, which stopped every time he started slumping forwards the floor. He was staring deliriously in his master's general direction, his mind empty except for the sensation of his master's light stroking, and the spike inside his valve. He felt queasy, he felt too full, and he felt exhausted. He had overloaded several times already – once straight after the initial knotting, and a couple times after, pushed on by his feeling of fullness – and while he ached for another release, he doubted his valve could take any more fluids inside it.  
  
Just as he was whining quietly to himself about his desire to overload, he felt something shift inside him. The sparkeater's spike was at last – _finally_ – depressurizing, and after a few nano-kliks, he felt it slide out of him, together with a mixture of transfluid and lubricant. He was dripping all over the floor. His master left him for a moment – Vos whined pathetically after him – leading the sparkeater away, and then returned to him.  
  
“Release.” Vos collapsed on the floor, into the mess he and the sparkeater had left there. It was sticky and uncomfortable, but he nonetheless overloaded once more, adding to the pool. “Good pet.” Vos rested on the floor for a few moments – overjoyed by his master's approval of his performance, but to exhausted to show it – before his master again called for him. “Roll over.” He was so, so, tired. But he would follow his master's command. He forced himself to flop over, now spoiling his back too. “Good pet.” A new wave of pleasure rippled through him. His master stepped over to him – he parted his legs for him – and sat down between his legs, placing a gentle kiss on his spike. Vos' breathing hitched.  
  
Vos parted his legs even further – his master liked it when he did that without having to be told – and relaxed again. His master's panels slid back – they had somehow remained in place during the whole session – and he leaned over Vos, resting his spike against Vos' opening. His master's spike glided easily into him. He usually needed to stretch a good deal before he could accept it, but today his valve was relaxed and prepared. His master slid into him – dislocating even more transfluid – and then out of him, setting a calm pace, that soon became intense. His master was nuzzling his neck the whole time, whispering to him about how good a pet he was, and he hardly lasted any time at all before he overloaded again, crying out in pleasure and joy, clenching around his master, causing him too to overload. Their transfluid mixed and filled Vos again, and he clung to his master's body as he rode out his overload.  
  
When his master was finished, he pulled out, and stood up, dragging Vos up with him. Vos managed to stand and wobble for about half a nano-klik, before collapsing again. His master caught him before he hit the floor, and scooped him up in his arms instead. “Tired, pet?” He nodded slowly. “Did you enjoy that, pet?” He nodded again. His master took off him the collar, and left it on the floor. His master made his way to the washracks – Vos cuddling in his arms – and just before Vos drifted off in a sorely needed recharge, his master could hear him rasp “Master better.” His master smiled again.

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to sincerely thank all of the events leading up to me reading up on how sex involving a bulbus glandis actually works for this fic (which, yes, at least some foxes actually have). Really. (Also, from what I could gather, fox-penises are actually quite small. But this is a turbofox, so it happens as I say it does.)


End file.
